The Art of Forgetting
by Aariah
Summary: A race of immortals have their memories wiped every fifteen years, all relationships that they otherwise had are now gone from memory completely. Other things stay, learned knowledge, personalities themselves. Lavi Bookman has finally caught up with this affliction, after years recording each and every day that passed. Allen Walker remains a constant.
1. Chapter 1

He wasn't stupid by any means. Quite the opposite.

Sometimes the mind played tricks though.

And sometimes those tricks fell through.

* * *

><p><em>Again and again, the dance continues through the centuries. Back and forth, different lives and different places. Always the same face though- always the same faces.<em>

_The same names for different, and odd reasons._

* * *

><p>There was no justifying it. Really, Lavi knew there wasn't. But he did it anyway, schooling his expression into one of friendly indifference. And he tripped.<p>

"Oh, are you okay?" The young man, probably in his late teens or early twenties runs up to Lavi- crouching down in an obvious attempt at helping him. Perfect.

"Eh?" Lavi grunts, bringing himself to his knees. He'd chosen a rather out of the way piece of sidewalk, there wasn't really anyone around but him and the man. "Oh, well I guess I'm fine." He flashes a slight grin, wondering how much makeup and time it took for him- the man to cover the scar on his face. He had drawings, Lavi of all people should know it's there.

"Do you need some help?" His grey eyes wide with worry, even though it was rather obvious that Lavi was completely fine.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Just gotta find- shit!" Okay, that part he hadn't planned. Smooth move Lavi, actually twisting your ankle. How do you even not notice that anyhow? Oh yeah. Detachment from the body. Well that was idiotic.

"Where were you going? I could help you..?" His face twists in worry, Lavi knew on most levels it was genuine too. Based on writing of course.

Everything was based on fucking writing. And it drove Lavi, who prided himself on a photographic memory, insane.

"I live down the street." Lavi points to some distant house. What a person who was barely older than a teen was doing with a house in the middle of a city of all places- who knew. Rich? Yes. He's had the place for close to a hundred years now.

"Well, come on. Lean on me." He stands, a gloved hand extended toward Lavi. Gingerly Lavi takes it, noting the fact that the man was much stronger than his thin frame suggested.

"Lavi. The name's Lavi." The words have undertones of gratitude laced throughout.

"Wonderful way to make an introduction Lavi. I'm Allen." Allen rolls the syllables of Lavi's name around on his tongue for a moment, which Lavi could hardly blame him for. It was an odd name to say the least, antique- just as much as Lavi was. Even if his body was stuck at the age of 19. None the wiser right?

"I'm particularly well known for my stunning image. The ladies all fall over me." Lavi boasts, leaning heavily on Allen's shoulder.

Allen rolls his eyes, knowing it was probably all just words. "Somehow i'm doubting it if you manage to trip over your own feet and twist one in the process." That forces a grin out of Lavi, who was very much ignoring the fact that he was in pain.

"Well duh, its just another of my charms." Lavi's words in turn force a laugh out of Allen, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I hope you weren't referring to that monstrosity over there." Allen changes the subject, voice dry. He was referring to the ancient looking and highly creepy mansion that stood at the edge of the park.

"Of course I am. Totally my style right? Cool?" Lavi winks, and feels Allen taking in his appearance. Nearly six foot, Lavi wasn't out of shape by any means. Actually, there was quite a bit of lean muscle underneath his obnoxiously colored shirt. Then his gaze would linger over his one patched eye, the bright auburn hair that looked as if it were never truly brushed.

"I suppose." He didn't sound amused. At all.

"Drop me off at the steps. Ya don't have to come inside beansprout. Unless you want to of course." The moment those words left his mouth he found he liked them. The nickname for Allen anyhow. Lavi had the feeling Allen would hate it though. Most people hated his nicknames.

What was the point of learning names when you'd only forget them? Though for his credit Lavi did in fact remember 90% of the names learned between resets.

"Don't call me beansprout." Allen responds through gritted teeth. Yup, that had hit a nerve. "And I'll come inside if you'll feed me." The last bit came as an afterthought. Lavi tucks the information away.  
>'Likely to be bribed by the presentation of food.' Probably money too, now that Lavi thought about it. Money bought food as well as other things. Good thing he had plenty of both.<p>

Because he had no intention of letting Allen Walker slip away again.


	2. Chapter 2

_It was discerning really_

_Having these blank spaces where people should have been._

_Not that he could blame whatever creator made them this way._

_Memories lasted, and grudges and hatred even longer._

* * *

><p>Allen Walker did end up helping Lavi through the door, and frankly he didn't know what to think of the guy. Like there was more going on inside that red head of his that was totally life shattering. Like he picked up every single detail, and frankly it was unnerving no matter how much Lavi tried to mask it. Because yes, in the short time Allen had seen Lavi (Not that he knew his name then) he'd seen his face change, a different persona.<p>

Allen would know. Years on the street had schooled him in those precious lessons. Hide emotions, hide intentions. Hide everything and create a mask to present to the world. Perhaps then you'd live. And eat for that matter.

The days would pass and nothing would change, and Allen frankly hated the repetition. He lost himself.

That's when he'd seen Lavi, in some library where he was teaching himself to read and compose. It was like a jolt of electricity, Lavi's one eyed gaze.

Like he saw through everything and straight into Allen's soul.

He'd taken the same route as Lavi on a whim, though it must have been for a reason considering that Lavi had in fact tripped and sprained his ankle. Graceful much?

Seeing that he was now following Lavi inside what was apparently his home meant that Lavi had offered to feed him. He'd probably regret it though, because frankly Allen hadn't been able to eat anything for the past three days. Busking only got you so much, and it was barely enough to even think about covering the bill to the shitty motel room.

His weight resting on Allen's shoulder, shock waves running through the places where their bodies touched. Allen wondered if Lavi felt it too, or if it was just him being insane. Insanity wasn't new after all. Such a good old friend. Behind you in the mirror, laughing at you while you tried to cover scarring with shaking hands.

"Hey, Beansprout? Earth to beansprout?" Lavi's voice jolts him back to reality.

"Hm? Oh, sorry about that!" Allen keeps his voice pleasant, changing his expression back to his default pleasant cheery mess.

"Just help me to the kitchen and you can help yourself. Consider it payment for dealing with an idiot." Lavi says, pointing in the general direction he wanted Allen to head towards. Okay. That worked.

* * *

><p>"How do you even eat that much?" Lavi asks glumly, his face a mixture of disgust and fascination as he watches Allen devour yet another plate, slowly- he didn't want to empty the contents of his stomach because he ate too quickly. Just wasted food.<p>

"Its a gift." He makes a show of dabbing his mouth daintily with a paper towel, which earns a head tilt from Lavi. Well, that's what he got for letting a near stranger into his house.

"Well that gift is disgusting dude. Seriously. You're acting like you haven't eaten in a week." Lavi replies, shifting in his seat.

Allen shrugs, he was rather used to this sort of reaction. Like, he did participate at those eating contests for cash once and a while too- he saw how that went. And it wasn't like his last comment was far off. It wasn't exactly, it was too close to the truth for comfort.

Having finished enough to make his formally very empty stomach very upset Allen forces himself to stop eating. It was hard though. "Thank you for the food, I should go now." He glances around, purposely avoiding eye contact.

* * *

><p><em>Memories swirl through an empty room far beneath the ground, countless memories from countless different people. Through the dull light they gave off showed the vague outlines of the steel walls of their enclosure. They weren't always here of course, long long ago, before civilization crumbled for the first time there was a secret war. One that spanned centuries and destroyed the world itself.<em>

_Kanda, Lenalee. Noise, Miranda. Just a few of the names the memories whispered._

_Every so often the memories would be added to, the cube in the center drawing them in wisps of glowing smoke._

_A fifteen year old boy climbs up the side of a cliff towards the large foreboding castle._

_Snap._

_Fighting, the loss. He stands up, half dead and one arm gone completely. That's when the innocence KNEW. It knew that this wouldn't ever end. The moment that teenage boy stood, innocence and body nearly complete and whole, that was the second everything changed._

_The over 100% synchronization rate was just an afterthought._

_Yes, that boy. The cube took more from him than any of the others. Purely because of who he was and what he did. Because he was Allen Walker. And Allen Walker destroyed the world. He wasn't to be forgiven._

* * *

><p>He stops by the motel for a few minutes to pick up his battered keyboard, probably the nicest thing he owned by far. His stomach was full for a while, so it'd be good if he got some busking in. You couldn't exactly play constantly, especially if your fingers were what kept you under some sort of roof.<p>

His feet bring him along the path towards the subway, couldn't exactly play a keyboard without an outlet to plug into. If he timed it right he'd be set up by the time people started flowing through, on their way home from work.

It was useless to play when there wasn't anyone to listen, the reason he spent most of the day in the library.

His spot wasn't taken, which causes Allen to smirk. He'd taken extra care to make sure everyone knew it was his spot, and that it wasn't up for debate.

The moment he was set up one of his regulars walks by. Eastern Asian if Allen was correct, probably Chinese. Lenalee smiles as she bends down to request a song, some popular pop song that had been playing on the radio recently. Luckily Allen knew it, and with a smile he starts playing. He couldn't read music worth shit but playing came naturally to him.

Lenalee always tipped well, so Allen tried to accommodate her as best as he was able every time he saw her in the month he'd been camped out here.

A lot of things about her felt familiar, though before this gig Allen had never ever seen her before. He's gotten used to it though, the never growing older. Forever stuck in a 17 year old's body and blanks where memories should have been.

"Hey Allen. You seem to be in a better mood today!" Lenalee claps her hands happily at the song's close.

A thin smile forms on Allen's face. "Oh really? I hadn't really noticed to be honest." Lies. He had. It had everything to do with having a full stomach and said stomach having been filled with free food that wasn't molding.

Lenalee raises an eyebrow, not exactly buying the lie. Bother. Allen would probably have to move on soon, just has he got used to THIS city. He couldn't afford friends. He frankly couldn't afford anything.

"You're bad at lying you know." She says as she pushes a bill into his closed hands.

Allen knew for a fact he wasn't. He was very good at lying, Lenalee was simply too perceptive.

His one fear was that'd she'd actually remember him after he left.

Long after she got onto her train Allen opens his hand and stares at the bills in shock.

Three neat hundred dollar bills were in his hand. That was more than he made in a week. Whatever God that was up there was being kind for once, as much as Allen was loathe to admit it.

He had a particular love hate relationship with God, spurred by the odd morning he'd wake up with everything gone. No recollections, nothing to be remembered- nothing. Just his name.

* * *

><p><em>The first chapter was rather short and vague so i figured i'd put this out despite the fact that the first chapter was published yesterday. I hope you guys like the story, really I do. Reviews would do a lot towards me keeping the story going. <em>

_ -Aariah out. _


	3. Chapter 3

_there's a story in everything, in people barely more than children trapped a lull of time._

_A story. To tell, to record._

_Never to share though. Its far too painful for that._

* * *

><p>Sometimes Lavi would spend hours just staring at himself in the mirror, eye patch off. He never took the damn thing off around others of course, though at least he had a reason for that. Where there used to be an eye there was now just scar tissue and an empty socket.<p>

It was ugly to look at and it drove Lavi insane. Because you should know how you apparently got an entire eye ripped violently from your skull right? There was nothing there though, just the knowledge that its been like that as long as he could remember.

The doorbell sounds, and Lavi mutters a curse, slipping the patch back on hurriedly he doesn't bother with a shirt before answering the door.

"Heya beansprout. What'cha doing round here." Lavi was actually rather surprised, he hadn't seen Allen in over a week, and not for lack of looking. Hell, he checked the library every day, same with the subway station Lena said she always saw him in. It was like he dropped off the face of the earth.

Allen just shrugs. "Don't call me that. Just wanted to see how you were holding up. See you're back on your feet already."

Lavi grins, seeing Allen's diverted gaze from him and his bare chest. "What, like what'cha see?" He winks with his good eye suggestively, making Allen turn slightly pink.

"No you ass! Geeze, I just wanted to see how you were doing since you know, you fell face first into cement the other day. Most people don't answer their door in their boxers."

Well, he did have a point. Lavi was most definitely mostly naked and most people most definitely did NOT answer the door in such a state. Well fuck that, Lavi wasn't most people. He shuffles to the side, allowing room for Allen to squeeze past, which he doesn't.

"Come on beansprout, don't want the neighborhood to get an eyeful huh?" Lavi strikes a pose for his nonexistent neighbors.

Shaking his head Allen walks through the door, shutting it behind him. "You have no neighbors Lavi. Unless you were talking about those creepy statues across the street."

"Hey! That's not very nice. They have names ya know." Lavi feigns shock and hurt.

"Mm hm. What kind of names." Lavi's performance didn't exactly fool Allen at all. Not that it was much of a performance, much too exaggerated.

"Um well... George, the one on the horse is George."

"I'd believe you, only the one on the horse happens to be a woman judging from the skirts." Allen inches his way inside, trying to stay a good distance from Lavi.

"Well Georges can wear skirts too, right George? And who says to be a George ya gotta be a girl." Lavi calls out to the statue, even though the door was closed and statues don't exactly have working ears. Right? No fucks given.

"So where were ya this week? Missed you at the library." Lavi asks, now clothed and Allen pacified with food.

"...Now that's kinda creepy. Seriously."

"Friends gotta check up on each other ya know, can't just let them go running off willy nilly." Lavi's explanation is met with a raised brow, and a purse of Allen's lips.

"I wasn't aware that we were friends. Since you we've spoken all of maybe two times?" Allen wasn't complaining though. How could you? The moment you protested Lavi would disregard those words with a wave of the hand. Instinct was funny like that.  
>Allen trusted instinct more than his memories. He had to. Memories were shaky and have decaying, even the memory of yesterday was already crumbling in his mind.<p>

"I wouldn't have let you in if I didn't consider you a friend." Lavi says, somewhat seriously which sort of had the effect of a coin dropped into a still well on Allen. Ripples of something running through his brain. Okay, well that was different to say the least.

"I heard from a lil birdie that you can juggle five things at once. You oughta demonstrate." The change of topic was sudden, and a relief to both parties.

That was something Allen could do. "Toss me something after I get started." He says with a grin, grabbing fruit from the table.

Allen could in fact juggle up to eight, and this fact pleased Lavi immensely. And also led Lavi in requesting that Allen teach him, and both men now laying on the kitchen floor laughing until pretty much everything hurt.

* * *

><p><em>There came a point in time where you started doubting everything, <em>

_what happened yesterday or the day before._

_You couldn't tell if it actually happened or if it was just a dream. _

_The mind plays tricks. You should know that by now._

* * *

><p>Allen was shaking, he wasn't quite sure how he got from point A to point B. He remembered going over to visit Lavi of course, and the fact that he had answered the door shirtless. Allen Walker didn't mind shirtless, it was the sheer amount of scarring that took him off guard.<p>

He was no stranger to them, scars. But Lavi possessed more than his fair share of them. The only time Allen had seen more on a single person was when he looked at himself naked in the mirror. Healed but still ugly, painful and ragged in his skin. A huge one going from shoulder to stomach, smaller silvery ones dotting his skin everywhere else.

What freaked him out was the... Knowing that Lavi had somehow. The fact that if Allen looked him in the eye for a moment too long ghosts started appearing, odd figures that left him shaken and longing and terrified of the past and future both.

* * *

><p>"Allen. Please don't go running off, please for the love of God." Lavi runs fingers through his hair, suddenly looking much older and much more weary than he had before. They were sitting at the table in his kitchen, Lavi's kitchen where Allen felt entirely too comfortable for his liking.<p>

"Why would you care?" Allen's body freezes, becoming cold and he had the slight feeling that he might be sick. Dread runs through his veins, turning them to ice.

"Tell me." Lavi responds quietly, sliding an old black and white photograph across the table to Allen. He felt sick too, for different reasons.

His stomach dropped, with unsteady hands Allen picks up the picture and he suddenly understood a lot. Not everything, but a lot.

"H-how." He asks, voice shaking.

Lavi shrugs heavily, "Like I know. You know what happens to people like us. Apparently we go way back."

Back meaning hundreds upon hundreds of years, though those words go unspoken. Because that'd probably scare Allen for sure, and then Lavi was positive he'd never see that white haired man again.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry I disappeared on you guys again and show up again with a crappy chapter. Mental shit, you know the deal. <em>

_Happy New Y__ears wonderful people._

_-Aariah out. _


End file.
